


All You Have Is Your Fire

by x57



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence is 13 yo, Emotional Manipulation, Ilvermorny, M/M, POV First Person, Pederasty, Pedophilia, Seduction, Shota, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex, grindelwald follower graves, implied Original Percival Graves/Gellert Grindelwald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x57/pseuds/x57
Summary: The whole situation made my stomach coil in something I could neither define as desire nor disgust. Not disgust at the boy…but myself....that was a lie.For very specific reasons, Graves is tasked with gaining Credence Barebone's trust and collecting him from Ilvermorny to further their cause.





	All You Have Is Your Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Hozier - Arsonist's Lullabye

Gellert told me I would find the boy at Ilvermorny. 

Gellert had _not_ told me I would find the boy in year three at Ilvermorny. 

Two weeks had passed since I set myself up in a role as “Mr. Graves, instructor of Defence Against the Dark Arts”. Two weeks had passed in which I slogged through lesson plans with students from year three to year seven. I had been informed that the younger two years were taught by another teacher, more specifically tailored to their age range, and for that I could not have been more grateful. 

I would have been a mess otherwise, and Gellert very possibly would have had an entirely different problem on his hands. He really should have known better than to send me--of all people—here--of all places. 

Gellert Grindelwald was an ass sometimes. But a very good gambler.

That, however, still left me to deal with the boy. Over the course of those two weeks, I watched him come in every day, sit in the back of my dusty classroom—it had been unused for who knew how long and I hadn’t taken the time to make it my own; I didn’t care to share any part of myself with the school, even so much as my taste in furnishings—and slump forward so that he became the smallest student in the class. I knew he was not, in fact, the smallest, having watched him in the hallways whenever I could get away with it, but he could make his frame curl in on itself, hunch his shoulders and duck his head behind the students in front of him, and for the whole lesson, I would only see a single dark eye and tuft of black hair peeking out at me from the back of the room. 

Credence Barebone was his name, and it was one that conveyed none of his beauty. Though names rarely did, I was still hit by the sight of him the first time I stood over his desk and he looked up at me with piercing dark eyes and a slim, elegant neck, pouty, perfectly curved lips and wholly unassuming air. 

The whole situation made my stomach coil in something I could neither define as desire nor disgust. Not disgust at the boy…but myself.

…that was a lie. 

It wasn’t disgust at all. I only wished it was. If I was disgusted with myself, I might have been able to call myself a better man, if only in intention. A flawed man, to be sure, but a man with a speck of goodness left in him. In truth, however, I suspected the feeling of my gut churning and my pulse quickening and my throat clenching at the sight of the boy whenever he watched me at the head of the classroom, was a mix of want and of fear. Gellert’s whispers never left the back of my mind in those moments, for in those moments, I felt more weak than I had ever felt in my life. I am not above admitting to fear. Fear kept men alive as surely as reason, and both were railing at me for letting myself be put in this situation, even by a man who seemed to know no fear himself. In those moments it was easier to think of Gellert and his request of me more than it was to think of my own desires for the boy.

It was Gellert’s orders that sent me here. I knew I should not be afraid. I did not abide society’s laws any longer, if I ever had, and yet this fear ran deep enough within me that I had, apparently, I only assumed I had rid myself of it. 

The moment I laid eyes on Credence Barebone, it sprang forth from the depths of my memories as a young man and stirred in my gut. Not because I knew what roiling darkness lay beneath the boy’s skin, and not because Gellert had teased me over how it would feel to sink my own flesh inside such a thing, how dangerous it would be to let Credence wrap his slender, creamy arms around me, but because I knew that that this boy would be my weakness the moment I let myself gaze too long. 

When Gellert had tempted me with the idea, I had laughed, delighted at the thought of bringing a beautiful little prize home. I had been proud at the time that he would send me. He could not leave his battles, not even for a task so delicate as the seduction of an innocent boy who had the potential to be so important to our cause. I would go in his stead. I had never felt closer to Gellert, the leader, than upon being tasked to perform as an extension of him, the man. 

Now, of course, I realised why Gellert had chosen me. 

He had not told me, nor anyone, the boy would be in year three at Ilvermorny. 

He may have chosen me regardless, but rarely did Gellert do anything for only one reason. He knew the boy’s small stature and innocent bearing would draw my eye…. Legilimency was one thing, and I knew that was one of his talents, but Gellert _understood_ people. He moved them like pieces across a board. When I watched it happen, I was ever grateful to be on his side. 

And that was how I came to be here, beginning my third week as an instructor at Ilvermorny, haunting corridors wherever the young Credence went and presiding over classrooms full of the bright young things of the next generation. 

In spite of my fears, there was no doubt in my mind regarding my mission. I may put a lot of thought into the ethical conundrums of the world, but I knew I was not a good man. Even though I had not expected the boy to be quite so… _young_. Even though that gave me pause, it did not put me off. Quite the contrary, in fact—it gave me pause _because_ it did not put me off, and I had tried to bury those feelings long ago. 

The way Credence bit his lip and chewed it, distracted, distant, but eyes fixed on me all the while during a lecture…. It did things to me I could not have imagined such a simple, idle motion could do. I had been so far removed from boys like Credence for so long that every little detail about him steadily grew more fascinating. I thought he might be tall one day, but he wasn’t yet. His wrists were so much slimmer than mine. He often wrapped his long finders around them as though it was a comfort to hold his hands in place and make sure, for whatever reason, they did not move.

Once Credence had settled into his seat, he would barely move at all. I found it both unsettling and distracting. 

The boy never spoke in my lectures though. I knew I would have to do something about that. I would have to find another way to reach him, and though I could think of many, I’d wanted to spend some time getting the measure of his presence in the same room, and letting him do the same in return. Someone so skittish would be too frightened if I made a move sooner. 

If luck were on my side, and in this case, I suspected luck was named Gellert—whether by prediction alone or some kind of masterful manipulation, the boy would be just as curious about an older man as I was about…well, about a boy as young and pretty as him. 

My efforts to find a way closer to him led me to following him wherever I could. A simple charm placed upon a pen and left near his desk did the trick. I’d noticed he only had one, and, guessing his temperament, I made sure to use one cheap enough that he would not be hesitant to pick it up. 

It worked as well as I’d hoped. He looked it over and put it in his book bag straight away, and since I never saw him in the halls without that bag, I considered it a success. 

After that I was able to find him anywhere in the school with a map kept in my pocket, and I made use of it frequently to pass him in the corridors. I tried to find out who his friends were, but he didn’t appear to have any. I tried to guess who he wanted to be friends with, but he seemed only to avoid the other students as much as possible. And they were not kind to him, either. 

Twice I had caught one or more of them cornering him in a hall, towering over him as he hunched, snickering and belittling him over something I didn’t catch. I had wanted to find another opportunity to speak to him outside of the classroom, one that didn’t put me so thoroughly in the role of an authority, but the third time it happened, they’d managed to pull him into an empty room, away from onlookers, and I knew I could not let it go. 

It was late evening and the room itself was pitch dark with the blinds drawn, but the door was already open and cast just enough light in to see them. All I had to do was step inside it to quiet their snide remarks. No sudden movements, no threats. I just stood there, blocking their way out, and watched as three pale faces caught in the single swath of light turned to me. They had been shoving Credence around between them, and now the colour was gone from their cheeks. 

I know the presence I cane make. I’m used to standing at the head of battalions, not third-years, and this is absolutely not the image I wanted to portray to Credence. 

“ _Out._ ” As quiet as I made that single word, it still echoed off the walls in the silence of that room. 

The boys fled. Credence looked like he wanted to. 

I felt myself swallow. I tried to soften the image I’d just created. I tried to bow my head and peer at him in concern. I tried to look like any normal, caring temporary guardian might in hopes that I could salvage my plan to gain his trust, but he still shied back from me as I stepped into the room. I couldn’t tell if he was afraid of me or ashamed of being bullied. 

“Credence, is it?” I made my voice as soft as I could make it and stopped a respectful distance away. 

He wouldn’t look at me. He would have been hiding behind his hair if it was long enough, his head turned to the side just so and his shoulders hunched, but he managed to nod. It was all I had to work with, but it was something.

I knew how this dialogue should go. I knew the appropriate course of action. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘Let me take you to the counsellor’s office.’ ‘Tell me their names and they won’t bother you anymore.’ The last one was tempting, but it would have taken my focus away from Credence himself. None of these routes were what I needed. 

“Here.” Instead, I held out my hand. 

He glanced at me finally, slender brows furrowed and mouth turned down so prettily. He stared at my hand like he was confused and then looked up until his eyes met my shoulder before he caught himself and they darted away. 

To hell with it. I stepped forward and he shied back, but when I grasped his arm, I made sure the touch was gentle and my words were soothing. “Shh, it’s alright boy.” It was strange, how naturally the words came from my mouth. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.” 

I was well within his space while trying to comfort him, so much so that he had no choice but to look up at me. So I ran my hand up his arm and back down again, trying for a friendly gesture, but…I think I might have been struck just as much as he was. Imagining being up close to such a boy was one thing. Actually being that close, _touching_ him, was another. My hand lingered too long, so I squeezed and tried to pretend it was intentional. 

He was trembling. And it hadn’t subsided. If anything, his face went paler the longer I lingered, and for a moment I thought I’d done it—I’d pushed too fast and too far, he was terrified of me—but then in the darkness behind him I caught sight of movement. Something creeping just over his shoulder. Up the wall. 

“Mr. Graves. I-I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is shaking as badly as his body. 

I looked up just in time to see a formless mass of black rising above the both of us. Without thinking, I grabbed him and pulled him to myself, raising my wand with a curse on my tongue, but the thing shot down even faster. 

That was when I realised it was not just a mass over Credence’s shoulder. It was _connected_ with him. His body was hazy around the edges even though it felt solid under my hands. The thing spooled itself back inside him until he sagged into my arms, gasping loudly. The trembling, however, had subsided. 

“ _Credence?_ ” I pushed his hair back and lifted his head to look at him. His eyes were dazed, and a clear, deep brown this close, but he was still pale. He felt cool under my touch, but my fingers found a sheen of sweat at his temples. He seemed half-coherent, possibly from pain. 

I’d just witnessed the obscurus. 

A heavy sigh of relief broke out of me as the realisation came. I couldn’t stand there like this. Even knowing what had nearly happened, that I’d very likely just escaped a swift death myself, I couldn’t be found holding an unsteady Credence in a dark and empty classroom, alone. Nor could I leave the boy here. Or send him away. 

“You have to come with me,” I whispered to him and got him standing back on his own two feet again. My mind was racing. “Somewhere you can rest.” 

His eyes tracked me, and I could see the fear in them. Not fear of me. Fear for himself, perhaps, or fear _for_ me, I didn’t know, but whatever it was, it prompted me not to treat him like a child in that moment. 

“I know what you are. You don’t have to worry.” I laid my hand against the side of his face to ground him, or perhaps just because I could and I knew it would help. He was still leaning against me. He was frightened and as far as I knew, he’d never had anyone to turn to. There was a chance I could still be that person. “Please.”

The boy sucked in a deep breath and then nodded. He looked like he was trying to clear his head. Or trying to steady the thing inside him. Both of us depended on that. 

I offered him a smile, but I knew it was shaky, so instead I put my arm under his shoulders and helped him to the doorway. Walking the halls like that was a challenge not to be seen, but eventually we made it out of the lecture wings and back to my chambers. 

I had definitely not anticipated him there on that particular night, but I was always careful not to keep any papers out and I hadn’t given the place any personal touches besides my own wardrobe. It had been furnished well enough to my liking, however, and it was not lacking in the essentials to entertain a guest. It had been my plan to bring him there eventually, just not quite so suddenly. 

He was walking more steadily on his feet, and I led him to the couch and bid him to sit without argument. 

“Something hot would do,” I mused and squeezed his shoulder before leaving for the kitchen. I had no idea whether thirteen year old boys drank coffee, or whether this particular one did, so I made two steaming cups of tea instead. 

Returning to the sitting room, I found Credence curled into himself as far as he could go, arms wrapped tight around his torso and hunched so low his head was nearly between his knees. 

I sat down beside him anyway. I set my cup on the table, and then, gently as I could, urged him to sit up with a steady grip to his shoulders. I took one wrist and pulled it away from himself, then the other, and then placed the second cup in his hands. I held them there, my own wrapped around his over the warmth of the tea cup, making sure he was steady enough not to drop it. Though his trembles had subsided, he looked like he would rather curl back in on himself than hold it. 

Finally, he breathed a soft sigh. I’d managed to mold him into a new form. I smiled and raised a hand to his cheek, knowing it was warm from the cup, and turned him to look at me. A new plan began to form in my mind. 

“Credence, do you know what that was, in that room with us? That magic?”

His next sigh was unsteady. “I think so,” he whispered so softly I could barely hear him in the silence of my sitting room. “When I first came here, I searched the whole library. But I only found a little bit. I think it’s called an obscurus.” 

“And that makes you an obscurial.” Good, I thought. The boy knew what it was. That would help. “I imagine something very terrible must have happened to you when you were young, for it to form.” I didn’t let him look away, even though he appeared to want to. “But you’ve managed to keep it hidden, all this time. That must take a great amount of strength.” 

Credence moistened his lips. He looked nervous, but the movement forcibly drew and held my attention. “My magic isn’t very strong,” he admitted, and I knew this from observing him in class it was true. “…but _it_ is.” 

He was right to be worried. I knew my face was full of concern as I looked at him. Not all of it was faked. This boy did not have a long future ahead of him. “You were right to keep it hidden. It’s not your fault, and it’s not a thing you can control, but….” 

His eyes moved to mine, for the first time of their own volition. 

“But our laws are not so kind to wizards who can’t control their magic.” 

Credence’s breathing turned shaky. He glanced down when the cup sloshed in his hands. 

I moved my hand around his own again, holding him still and drawing the cup up. “Shh now, it’ll be alright... Drink this” I stroked his hair and moved in closer as, together, we raised the cup to his lips and he took a sip. “We’ll think of something.” 

Credence closed his eyes and tried not to cry in my arms. With my encouragement, he drank the tea, and when I set it down, I folded my arms around him and let him take comfort against my chest. 

He calmed that night in my rooms. I rubbed his back and told him I wanted to help him. I got the feeling not many people had told him that before. By the time I had to send him back, his tears were dry and there was a new light in his eye. One that looked a lot like awe.

Maybe even hope.

* * *

I began inviting him to my rooms after that. At first I told him I only wanted to check in on him, to make sure that he was still ok since the night prior and to make sure the obscurus was safely back in its dormant state. He acquiesced, with a quiet and cautiously pleasant air about him. I didn’t think I was imagining the way his red mouth turned up when I asked if he would have tea with me again. 

That time, he took a tour of the sitting room, running his eyes over the heavy paintings and the tall mirrors along the walls, while I held my breath and hoped he would not catch a glimpse of the man with mismatched eyes lurking behind their reflections, before settling down again upon the couch, unruffled. 

I stifled a sigh of relief as I brought the tea. Gellert had been watching since the night prior. It did not disturb me, but I knew I couldn’t let the boy catch anything amiss in the depths of a mirror. 

We talked and I, unable to help myself, sat too close and offered what little touches I could get away with. To my great satisfaction, they were not rejected. The boy certainly seemed unsure of himself at first, but the moment my hand made contact with his knee, his shoulder, even his face as I spoke softly to him, ostensibly just to make sure he was alright, he seemed to relax. It was, quite honestly, the most relaxed I had ever seen him. I had the sense he wanted to lean into my touches as I wanted to press them upon him even more. 

After that it became a regular occurrence. I invited him to my rooms to study, and served him tea and chocolates, away from the other students whom he told me still bothered him. There weren’t any he liked, I found out, which confirmed my earlier observations. 

He’d been hesitant to talk about it at first, but I found I could wrestle his real thoughts out of him with enough focused persistence and the dark chocolates with cherry cream inside he liked so much. 

Deciding to further two goals at once one night while he sat on the couch and he had his homework spread out, I fetched a box of those chocolates, but kept them in my lap as I settled down next to him. Immediately he perked up, expecting me to set them down as usual so he could have a few. He would never ask for them, but once he knew he was allowed, he savoured them greedily. 

I very, very much wanted to see if he would feel the same about other…delights. 

As the moment passed and I kept them to myself, he seemed to grow unsure. I turned my attention to him and offered him a small smile. Something kind. Something indulgent. 

“Why don’t you try to make other friends?” I asked, as gently as I could make a question I knew to be so fraught with pitfalls.

Immediately, his face soured and he looked away. His eyes moved back to his papers by default, although I knew he was not really taking them in. He merely shrugged. “There’s nobody I’m interested in.” 

It was a poor excuse, so I reached out and, as gently as possible, took the papers from his lap and set them down upon the table, just out of reach. He looked back up to me, slightly startled, slightly confused, but I kept my expression as warm as I could to ease his tension. 

I looked down at my lap. “Would you tell me for, say…a chocolate?” I plucked one out of the box and held it up between us, eyes on him as fixedly as his eyes moved to the treat in my hand then back to me. 

He was unsure, but I could tell that he sensed it was a game. I smiled a little wider to let him know that his suspicions were correct. 

When he leaned forward to reach for the chocolate, however, I drew it back. “Ah-ah, not just yet. Answers first and then chocolate.” 

He looked chastened. His hands drew back to his lap and his head bowed, but after a moment, there came over his face a sour look I had not often seen before. “I don’t like them,” he whispered, rigid and restrained in both posture and tone, and I got the keenest sense that his feelings on the matter were stronger than that. 

So I shifted closer, the treat still between my fingers, just out of reach, but I drew my free arm over the back of the couch, around his shoulders, and I held him with my gaze to encourage him to speak. “Is that all?” My tone was just as quiet, but there was a playful lilt to it. One I knew had the potential to draw him out. One that I myself had learnt from a man with the most silver tongue and persuasive mind. Credence’s eyes did not look back up at me, but I saw his fists clench. 

“I _hate_ them.” 

His words were so quiet I could barely hear them. He was trembling faintly, and appeared both to expect to flinch under my immediate reproach for what he’d said and, strangely, at the very same time, determined to stand by it as well. 

My heart leapt at the chance I’d been given. He would have to do neither of those things. Instead, I drew the chocolate up to his lips and placed it there, watching his beautifully red mouth part, ever so slowly, for the treat. He was so still, I knew he hadn’t expected that. He had probably expected my reaction to be anything but what it was. 

With care, I drew my fingertips down his cheek and watched him begin to chew. Whatever was going on in his mind, he was calming. I was so close I could see every one of his eyelashes and every little movement of muscle in his mouth. The way he licked his lips after swallowing mesmerised me. His lips parted just so when he was finished, and I knew there was a question on his tongue he could not bring forth. It was fairly obvious what he wanted to ask. How close I’d become, leaning my head down near his…. Yet I could tell his restraint in asking was not out of aversion. It was out of fear, and of saying the wrong thing. 

“I understand,” I told him quietly, gripping the back of his neck so that he would feel the weight of my words as he felt my hand. 

His eyes darted up to me, and I recognised his surprise and—I _knew_ it—a faint glimmer of hope. 

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned forward over those few inches more, and kissed him. The sweetness of chocolate on his lips delighted my tongue, but not nearly as much as the taste of _him_. My fingers drew into his hair to hold his head and guide the kiss. He had quite obviously never kissed anyone before, but I didn’t mind. Not one bit. He followed whatever I did, or perhaps I just took control enough that he had to, but it was _glorious_. 

When I pulled back, he wasn’t trembling anymore. His eyes were wide and bright, and never had the no-maj phrase ‘bright young thing’ entered my mind so clearly as when he stared at me like that, his mouth still parted and chest rising and falling with deep breaths. 

“Are you alright?” I asked, keeping hold of his gaze. 

His breath hitched, apparently breaking the spell the moment had over him. It was amusing how he hadn’t expected me to speak. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Graves.” His eyes darted down to my collar, and then, to my great satisfaction, down farther still before they shot back up to my own. 

I was smiling again. It had widened seeing his visual exploration of me, and he was startled to see it at first. I brought my other hand up to stroke at his cheek, skin still so unimaginably soft. “I want to make sure no one ever hurts you again.” 

He’d told me about his mother in the night he’d spent visiting my rooms. He’d told me how he’d been raised, and how, when at the age of eleven, he found out he was a wizard, men from MACUSA had come to take him away and had her obliviated. No more and no less than that. He’d been staying at a wizarding orphanage in the summers since. With the way he was either treated badly or ignored by the other students, I could easily surmise that Credence had not known much kindness in his young life. In a way, that eased my mind, knowing where I wanted to take him, and what I wanted to do with him. My kindnesses may not have been what he deserved, but they were at least better than what he’d known. 

“I like you very much, Credence,” I told him softly. “ _Very_ much.” 

His eyes brightened even more, if that were possible, and so I leaned in for another kiss. This time his hands came up to clutch at my shirt, and, after I pressed farther, licking into his mouth and causing him to gasp between our movements, he _whined._ It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever heard. He had definitely not meant to do it, and gasped after, cheeks colouring wonderfully as I grinned against the corner of his mouth. 

“I-I like you, too, Mr. Graves,” he mumbled, so awkward it was adorable. It stoked the fire in me like nothing I had imagined. I knew very well at this point how he watched me, and how his hands clenched into fists when he was trying not to lean closer to me, and how I must seem in his mind—bigger than life, impossible, _untouchable_. 

I wanted more than anything then than to prove to him that the distance between us need not be so great, so I hooked my hands around his hips and lifted him into my lap, chuckling when his arms wrapped around my neck in surprise more than intention. 

“I’m very glad you do.” I pressed my words, teasing and indulgent in tone, into his neck before kissing him there. When I began to mouth and lick at the spot, he began trembling again, so I laid my hand against his back and pulled him so that we were chest to chest. 

And that did it. Something about the full body contact opened him up. His back arched into me and his head bent to my shoulder, face rubbing there while I moved his collar back and kissed his skin. He was breathing so deeply he should have been panting, I could feel it against me, but somehow he was silent. Forcing himself so. 

“You can make noise for me,” I turned my head and whispered against his ear. “There’s no reason to be shy.” 

That caused a great gust of exhalation from his lungs along with a low whimper. He wasn’t sure if he really could, if he was really allowed, I could tell. But with his hips against my lower belly and mine underneath him, I could feel what I was very, very sure was his erection trapped between us, and I was also sure he could feel mine. 

His lips parted and he began to let his breaths make sound, but I could see the way he furrowed his brows, wondering what to say. I made it easier for him, tilting his head back so I could mouth at the other side of his neck, and pulled his hips against mine, rocking up as he came down. What came out of him wasn’t a gasp and it wasn’t a shout either. He sounded like I’d strangled him, and I couldn’t stop grinning into his skin. Or resist doing it again. 

He made a slightly more dignified noise that time, and I nipped at his neck in approval, which only caused him to whimper again. Thinking only of how much I would like to take this somewhere else, I wrapped an arm underneath him and began to lift him, intent on carrying him to the bedroom, but immediately his fists latched onto the lapels of my waistcoat with such force and suddenness I froze. 

He must have sensed my intention. 

“Shh now, it’s alright.” I turned my face to his cheek and decided to alter my course. Instead, I lifted him just enough to turn us on the couch, so that he was sitting where I had been and I could slide down to the floor in front of him. I kept him close all the while though, wrapped tight in my arms until his grip began to loosen and it was clear I wasn’t going to move him again. “We don’t have to go anywhere. We can just stay here. Right here.” 

He nodded, and I could see how suddenly frightened he’d been. I drew my hand through his hair, and watched it soothe him by degrees. “I want to, Mr. Graves.” His words were a gust of air. An admission of guilt, perhaps. 

He didn’t need to say what he wanted to do. He could have just as well said he wanted me. I leaned in close again, pressing chaste kisses to his lips to calm him. “I know you do. And it’s ok.” My thumb brushed over his lower lip without my intent, but I could not remove it once it was there. Credence’s lips were the softest thing I’d ever felt. There was no need to push it inside. This much was all I wanted. “Would you let me take care of you?” I moved back just enough to ask the question and look him in the eyes. 

His slender brows drew together, but the lust in his gaze was fast outgrowing the trepidation. His lips parted to answer, but instead, he only nodded. 

I smiled. “Then sit back.” 

I pressed a kiss to his lips and then pressed my hand against his chest, firm, unyielding, grounding him as I pushed him into the cushions. He ended up slouching, not quite tall enough to rest his back against the couch and still keep his hips where I wanted them, but that was ok. It would make for a better angle, and a better view. 

He watched as I slid my hands down his hips, moving from the outside inward. His mouth opened right before my palm made contact with the front of his trousers. His small gasp echoed through the room. He was just as hard as I’d suspected, although his length was nowhere near as large as a grown man’s. 

I was going to _enjoy_ this. 

It must have shown on my face, since Credence suddenly was looking at me and not my hand, and he seemed _fascinated_. I flashed a smile, teeth and everything, and then focused on undoing his trousers. My fingers were quick about it, not wanting him to have enough time to get nervous, not even wanting him to think about it, or about anything except the taste of pleasure he’d just experienced. 

When he was free, I found his length to be just as I’d imagined. Small and rigid and so, so gorgeous. Good enough to devour. I licked my lips and could feel him staring at me again, probably with that shell shocked look, but I didn’t care. I bent down and took the first taste. Just a single lick along the underside of the head, and Credence let out a shaking breath. At the second lick, he gave a small whine. 

He was smooth and soft, and I knew he didn’t have long to remain so. Puberty was just setting in, judging from his height and the length of his cock, but he had some time yet. I didn’t think I had ever tasted something so wonderful. Unable to wait any longer, I finally took him into my mouth and sucked. 

Immediately, unexpectedly, his hands were in my hair and he was crying out, but he wasn’t pulling me back. He didn’t try to stop me. He just…held me there, clutching fistfuls of my hair and trying to restrain himself, or acclimate to the feeling. I wasn’t sure which, but after a minute, he seemed to realise what he was doing, and his grip slackened, letting me move. He didn’t let go completely, however, and something in me thrilled over that. That he was ready and willing to touch me now. 

I hollowed my mouth and began sucking in earnest, giving him slow strokes of my tongue and swirling it around the little tip. My hands were blessedly free to roam the rest of his body, kneading and petting him as I worked and he whined. I could look up at him like that, too. I could imagine very well the picture I made by the look on his face alone. And maybe the colour in his cheeks. He was practically scarlet with it, but so desperate for me to keep going. 

And so I did. I savoured every caress, every stroke, every taste, and every twitch of the muscle in my mouth, and I could _feel_ how much he desired me even before his peak. 

When he did climax, his hands were tight in my hair again and his hips were trying to ride up into me as much as I would allow them. Feeling the tension draw his body taut under my hands and mouth was as exquisite as his sudden release. He came dry, and I would have smiled if I could have like that—my beautiful boy, still such a sweet young thing—but I could feel the climax in his body through and through, and even the little twitch of his cock. 

He cried out softly as I lowered him down to the cushion, gently licking him through the aftershocks of pleasure without overstimulation. As I looked up to observe my work, I found him completely boneless, flopped upon the couch like a little doll. 

I grinned to myself and climbed up with him, drawing his trousers all the way off as I went. He didn’t seem to notice or care much at first. Maybe he thought I was just making him more comfortable, but when I spread us both out on the couch and tucked myself behind him, rubbing against his pert backside, he seemed to catch on. 

His dark head turned, trying to look back at me through the ruffled mess of his hair, but I kissed his cheek. I could feel the creeping tension in him trying to wake his body and mind up out of its post orgasmic stupor. I ran my hand over his thigh, drawing back until I could dip a finger between his cheeks. I rubbed my whole hand there, fingers rubbing up and down and brushing against his hole, not giving him any time to process it beyond the sensation. 

“Shh,” I whispered in his ear, knowing he would question me if I let him have the time. I had no intention of hurting him that night, or going too far beyond what he was ready for. What I really wanted to do to him could come later. I depended on that coming later; that was the whole reason I was there, but I didn’t want to think about that just then. 

Instead, I undid my trousers and muttered a quiet spell for lubrication until my cock was slick with it, and then lined it up between those delectable cheeks. I gave it a slow thrust, dragging along just enough for him to really feel it brushing against his puckered muscle, but then I adjusted it downward, working it in between his closed thighs. I gave a soft grunt of my own just then and felt Credence’s heart beating rapidly under my hand as I wrapped an arm around him and held him to me. My other hand kept his thighs firmly closed and I began to thrust in earnest. 

I knew this wouldn’t take long. How embarrassing, for a thirteen year old with a schoolboy crush to last longer than me at forty, but _fuck_ , how I’d wanted him for so long. And here he was in my arms, making little noises with every one of my thrusts rocking him forward, caught between glancing down between his own legs to see the head of my cock pushing through, and averting his eyes, probably thinking, for some ridiculous reason, it would be more polite. I didn’t care about polite. So I turned his head and kissed him, hard and urgent with the early sensation of climax coiling at the base of my cock. Between his thighs. 

“The things I want to do to you, Credence….” 

I hadn’t meant to say that. Not out loud. But he tilted his head back to me and canted his hips to push against my thrusts, like my suggestion spurred him into thinking about it, too. 

That was what undid me in the end. 

I came grunting his name with my arms wrapped around him a little too tightly and spurting over the front of his shirt. But I didn’t care. In that moment, I had him. It was bliss. Pure, absolute, bliss. 

I came back down with my nose buried in his neck and my arms still around him, but gentler now, loose and dazed and so, so good. I pressed kisses to his shoulder and his neck and the side of his face, and I couldn’t stop. For the first time, maybe ever that I’d seen, he smiled, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. 

I cleaned us up as best I could without moving and found a blanket thrown over the back of the couch to tuck around us both. I didn’t know the time but I knew it was late. I didn’t care. He wouldn’t be missed, and we both knew it. 

Then felt like as good a time as there ever would be. 

“I want you to come with me,” I told him softly, pressing the words into a kiss against his cheek. 

His brow furrowed and he looked back at me again. My tone must have conveyed more than my words. “You’re leaving?” 

“I am,” I admitted, bracing for the tension in his body I knew would come, and it did. “But I want to keep you safe. I want to take you away from all this, these people who taunt you, and left you with that woman for so long. These people who allowed such an obscurus to grow within you, without help.” I swallowed, finding it strangely difficult to continue. That didn’t happen to me. “These people who would…do terrible things to you if they ever found out.” 

Credence turned to me, furrow deeper than I’d ever seen it over his eyes and the beginnings of understanding spreading across his features. “Where would you take me?”

“To a man who wants to make our world better than it is.” I trailed my fingers across his chin, hoping that he would see the truth in my eyes as much as I drove it into my words. “Where people like that would never hurt people like you again.” 

I hadn’t the words Gellert always had, but I had my conviction. 

“Our _revolution_.” 

The way Credence looked at me then…like I was his first, last, and only hope, I knew what he would decide. But it was more than that, or so I thought. So I hoped. It was why I had made sure he could want me. Why I knew Gellert would do the same, binding this boy through his own heart to us and the cause, but I already felt just as bound to him. 

With eyes fixed on mine, Credence nodded. 

“Okay, Mr. Graves.”


End file.
